


The Last Temptation

by Morgan (morgan32)



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-08
Updated: 2009-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:18:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan32/pseuds/Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Gilgamesh had failed to kill Iolaus in <i>Faith</i>?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Temptation

"The last temptation is the greatest treason  
To do the right deed, for the wrong reason"

T.S. Elliot

Hercules could hear Iolaus calling his name. His friend sounded so far away. Hercules couldn't see him; couldn't see anything. There was only darkness.

_Iolaus ... where are you?_

He had thought he knew what pain was. He had been wrong. Nothing in his experience could have prepared him for this agony. Every nerve in his body was screaming. His lungs felt scorched, each breath an effort, and his heart ... whatever was left of his heart was filled with terror. It wasn't fear of death, though he recognised he was dying. It was fear of what would follow. Of what he had brought into the world. Of the knowledge that, this time, doing the right thing had been the worst of all his choices.

The darkness was a tangible thing, suffocating him.

_Iolaus? Are you there? I can't hear you any more, buddy._

_You were right, Iolaus. I should have listened to you. Now it's too late ... _

Gods, it hurt. But as long as the pain lasted, he at least knew he was alive.

He hadn't known. They had played him for a fool, used the best (and worst) parts of his nature against him, and he hadn't suspected a thing. Not until now.

Who bothers to consider metaphysical questions in the heat of battle? Hercules certainly never had. He preferred the world he could see and touch. He had always enjoyed a good fight; he had been trained for it, after all, and raised on stories of heroes and battles just like every other boy in Greece.

But he wasn't every other boy in Greece. And while it was true that he had ignored or missed the metaphysical implications of the events he had mistakenly become involved with, in all honesty he had to admit _that_ wasn't the cause of the mess he was in now.

***

It had started with Gilgamesh. It had started with anger. And it had ended with hate ... because of love.

The anger was directed at Gilgamesh. How had Hercules been taken in so completely? The Sumerian king had seemed like a good man. His words were sincere, his desire to help his people seemed born of compassion. Hercules had trusted him. He had liked him. He had even confided in this foreign demigod, believing that they had much in common.

Gilgamesh betrayed him.

Left alone in that crumbling, useless temple, Hercules hadn't even considered the real consequences of what Gilgamesh had done. Anger at the betrayal filled his heart, clouded his judgement. All he could think of was finding Gilgamesh and kicking the smug, self-righteousness out of him and his so-called "master". Rage guided him back across the desert wasteland. Fury burned within him as he reached the palace.

He had no idea what he would find there.

Outside the palace, Hercules had watched as a shadow fell across the sun, blocking its warmth and plunging the world into darkness. Only then did he begin to wonder about the larger forces at work.

He burst into the palace like a fury, shouting Gilgamesh's name. He saw Nebula tied down to some kind of an altar, Gilgamesh standing over her with a shining dagger. He remembered, then, that Gilgamesh had spoken of a sacrifice. If it was possible, Hercules became even angrier. He attacked Gilgamesh; the dagger that had been poised above Nebula's heart skittered across the tiles, out of his reach. Nebula was safe ... for now.

Another mistake: Hercules had failed to anticipate the magnitude of Gilgamesh's strength. He cursed his own stupidity: he had known that Gilgamesh was a demigod. He had watched the man drink the nectar of the gods. He had known without needing to be told that the nectar was something similar to ambrosia. Yet he had been totally unprepared for the power Gilgamesh now possessed. A demigod gorged on the food of the gods, backed up by the power of Dahok.

As Hercules watched, his enemy's face transformed into the very visage of evil.

But there was no time for thought.

Gilgamesh pressed his advantage and they traded blow after blow. Hercules' anger unleashed the full force of his legendary strength, and even so, he was losing. Focussed entirely on what had become a battle for his life, Hercules didn't even realise Iolaus had freed Nebula until Gilgamesh threw him on the altar in her place. Even then, he was barely aware of his friend's presence: Gilgamesh took all of his attention.

Somehow, Hercules found his feet again, driving his enemy away from the altar, away from Nebula.

Then, he saw Gilgamesh lift the dagger. Hercules froze, watching as the evil blade rose from the tiles, apparently of its own accord. Certain he himself would be its target, Hercules was ready, knowing he would get only one chance to block it. Because of that, when the dagger flew toward Nebula, Hercules' shouted warning was just a fraction too late.

In that instant, Hercules knew what was about to happen. He heard Iolaus' shout. He saw Iolaus begin to move. Saw, in his mind's eye, the damage the blade would do if Iolaus stopped it, as he clearly intended to do, with his own body. His heart almost stopped with fear for his friend and Hercules acted — again — without thinking.

"Iolaus!!" Hercules scream of denial mingled with Iolaus' shout. He grabbed the nearest object — the candelabra behind him — and threw it with all the strength he had left, a desperate attempt to deflect the dagger's deadly course.

Hercules heard the distinctive clash of metal on metal and saw the sparks fly. His heart started beating again. Iolaus was safe. Gilgamesh had failed.

Gilgamesh roared, "Dahok!!"

Hercules turned back to his enemy, his mouth twisting in a snarl of hate. The glowing light in Gilgamesh's eyes exploded into flame. The light of the fires burning behind him, summoned to honour his dark god, burst into even greater intensity, filling the chamber with unbearable heat and light.

"Get out of here! Go!" Hercules yelled, knowing Iolaus would obey, not waiting to make sure he did.

Gilgamesh's black robe tore at the shoulders, revealing grey and mottled flesh beneath. Flesh that flexed and rippled as Gilgamesh literally grew before the demigod's eyes. A sharp-fanged mouth opened and screamed — a sound no human throat could have produced.

Hercules, famed in his own land as a slayer of monsters, did not hesitate. He attacked.

But his enemy no longer fought as a man. Gilgamesh was not even a god. he was something more, or at least, something very different. He was leaching power from all around him and Hercules' anger and hate could only make him stronger.

It was all Hercules could do to stand his ground. Yet somehow, because he too was something more than mortal, and because he now understood something of what was at stake, he _did_ stand his ground, placing himself as a physical barrier between Gilgamesh, his evil master, and the world.

Until ...

The demon's clawed hand closed about Hercules' neck. Hercules struggled as he felt his own skin tear, felt blood flow. He found himself choking as he was lifted up, level with the Gilgamesh-demon's fiery eyes. He was at the limit of his strength, almost helpless before Gilgamesh's power.

The demonic flesh grew hot. Then there was only agony as the demon became a thing of flame, burning Hercules' skin every place they touched. By reflex, he loosened his grip on the arm that held him. Gilgamesh laughed, the sound reverberating through the chamber.

And still it was not over. Hercules felt the burning hand clawing at his chest. He could smell his own flesh burning. And as that hand of fire reached _inside_ his body, Gilgamesh's own words echoed through his mind, tormenting him: "All he needs is the sacrifice of a warrior heart." And behind the words, cloaked in Gilgamesh's triumphant laughter, the terrifying knowledge of WHY.

***

Was it dark, or was he blind? Hercules was no longer sure.

Gilgamesh was gone. Hercules had been unable to stop him.

The pain was fading. The fire that had seemed to consume his body was giving way to numbness and cold. It wasn't a relief.

Hercules understood Dahok's need for a sacrifice. He knew, now, that on the far side of the battle he had lost, there lay another battle and that the most important he would ever fight.

And that he would have to fight it alone.

But Hercules' strength was physical; he couldn't take it with him into death. His true strength came from Iolaus. Iolaus ... who should have died here today. Who now would be left to mourn his closest friend. Iolaus, who would have no idea of the consequences of his continued life.

_I can't do it. Iolaus, I can't fight Dahok alone. Help me ... _

The darkness closed over his head.

**~ End ~**


End file.
